


Why do you do this

by solaireplz



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls II
Genre: Betrayal, Eventual Smut, M/M, Mild Gore, Mild Necrophilia, noncon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-18 20:55:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20198029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solaireplz/pseuds/solaireplz
Summary: The Bearer meets a nice man willing to help him on his journey through Eleum Loyce.





	1. Chapter 1

The icy ruins of Eleum Loyce whistled ominously as the never ending storm swept through the city.  
The bearer huffed, his hot breath freezing into a round puff of air as it left between the slits of his helm.  
It was cold, but not unbearably so. The calm coldness of the air fit well with him for some reason. Unlike the near unbearable heat he always had to bear outside, his very armour seemed to blend well with this land...  
Not that he remembered why.  
  
That didn't stop the Bearer from seeking shelter from the freezing winds time to time. He wasn't quite sure where he was going at this point, having taken the lift down to the towns, he was more or less exploring rather than going anywhere.  
  
He knew that he had to rescue a few more Loyce knights to face the old chaos. But Alsanna didn't exactly gave him a map of where they were so...  
  
The Bearer skewered up another tree mage thing and hastily dodged a rolling hedgehog. He hated those things. It really had a way of scuffing up his armour.  
  
If only he had more help other than Eri... not that they're bad... But they had a habit of rushing in fist first and getting smacked around by the beast's attack.  
  
The Bearer made their way up a flight of stairs. This stair is really creaky, he wondered if-  
  
A white figure moved at the edge of his vision, and the Bearer quickly raised their weapon. The white figure waved amicably. What.  
  
The Bearer stared at the man in a royal swordsman armour for a few seconds. The other stared at him too, all the while posing harmlessly. If harmless was term to describe a man in full armour wielding a massive hunk of a lance and great shield. How strong did they have to be to wield that thing? They both stood like that, ominously facing each other for a while, before the Bearer decided he was being rude.  
  
The Bearer sheepishly approached the man while lowering his weapon.  
  
"Erm, greetings."  
  
Now that they thought about it something about them seemed very familiar...  
  
The lance wielding knight simply nodded back, and opened his arm up in a welcoming gesture. The Bearer approached and hugged him, fitting his large body between where the man opened his arms. They were of similar stature to him, but slimmer. What a foregoing man. Hugging was quite obsolete as a greeting in this day and age but he seemed friendly so the Bearer didn't mind.  
  
The man stood frozen for a little while, and strangely returned the hug after a while. The Bearer understood. Not much people would've returned his gesture. But the Bearer was well-versed in olden mannerisms!  
  
"So what brings you to these parts?"  
  
The lance wielding knight stared at him strangely for a little while, then used his weapon to point at the bearer. Okay, so they are a silent type?  
  
"To help me...? But I don't remember summoning you...?  
  
The man was a white phantom after all. Maybe it was like how those blue phantoms come to help him time to time. But he didn't sense any dark spirits invading his world...?  
  
"Err... alright then. Shall we?"  
  
The Bearer lead the way as he and the man walked along for a little while. The Bearer had his back to the phantom but he could feel them staring at him. His... behind, to be specific. Oh.  
  
After a moment of awkwardness on his part, they finally came across a important looking lever. Oh! The Bearer sighed in relief as he grabbed the lever, and using his hefty body weight pulled on it. The tall gate beside him begin to creak open and-  
  
Searingly unbearable pain.  
  
Before the Bearer could even scream, they were lifted into the air, then was smashed into the ground with morbid force. His head spinned, what happened? The man, he...  
  
"Don't turn your back on me, it's far too tempting to resist."  
  
The assassin whispered, chuckling as the Bearer started to feel his consciousness fade. The Bearer could feel a hand stroking up his thighs, then massaging his plump ass. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is there 1fic for the best NPC in darksouls this is heresy :(  
I miss you paladin leeroy fic... even if Maldron was a background prop he was still there at least...


	2. Maldron the Assassin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bearer remembers. And Maldron is having fun.

His back and ass felt sore. 

The Bearer of the Curse cursed under his breath as he groggily sat up. The bonfire beside him glowed warmly within the small ruined building. However it wasn't nearly warm enough to soothe the cold air which seeped through the walls of the small house. 

The undead stood up. He had a task to do. 

'...What task?' he thought hazily as he painfully trudged along.

The Bearer gripped his weapon harshly as he scoured his lacking memory. There were remnants of pain and humiliation, clouded, worrying him at the seams. Just out of reach.

But once he climbed the stairs and saw the white figure give another friendly wave, he remembered.

"You... were red." whispered the Bearer. 

Maldron the Assassin stared at him blankly, his friendly wave frozen mid-action. 

"Hm."

The assassin twirled his massive lance, then smiled within his helm. Or at least that's what they derived from the annoyingly springy tone the assassin took when they talked to him again.

"I thought you were more stupid. Though you do make up the lack of brain cells with how tight and thick you are."

And with that, the Bearer charged, his considerably huge frame slamming into the assassin as their weapons clashed and creaked against each other. A second of contact later, the assassin pushed back harshly, pushing the Bearer away from him. 

The assassin seemed surprised, but smiled all the same. 

"You looked lovely. Bleeding your heart out, guts spilling, writhing, dying. I couldn't resist."

"Why?!"

The Bearer snapped as he took another charging attack at the assassin. The assassin blocked him with his great shield, and this time he used the advantage of his shield to stab the Bearer with his lance from the side. The Bearer quickly rolled back, but not completely unscathed. The undead glared angrily at the assassin. Maldron laughed. He really was enjoying himself. 

"Why not?"

The Bearer felt white hot anger flare through him. How.. How could he do that...? It wasn't the first time someone or something yearned him in that way but the Bearer was more or less dead! The assassin did... that... to a corpse, no less!

Using the undead's shock to his advantage, it was now Maldron who initiated the attack. His lance aimed straight for the Bearer's heart, he charged. By the skin of the teeth, the Bearer blocked the attack with his own shield, sliding back from the sheer force put into the attack. 

The Bearer held his ground, but not for long before Maldron smacked his greatshield right into his chest, knocking the Bearer off balance and grounding him. Before the Bearer had a chance to stand back up, the assassin thrust his lance. 

The assassin was aiming for his heart, but the Bearer shifted just in time, and shifted its gaze to his left shoulder. The massive metal teared through pelt and armour, piercing itself through hot flesh, and sprouted blood onto the cold wooden floor. 

The undead moaned as he barely held back the scream which ripped its way through his throat. Somehow he had lost his grip on both his sword and shield along the way, and was now helpless. Dying is fine, but if he were to die, the assassin would... 

The Bearer felt the lance dancing along his bare throat, and heard the assassin chuckle with delight. 

In a rush of adrenaline, the Bearer grabbed the assassin's lance and pulled. Maldron, having momentarily lost his focus from the sight before him, lost the grip on his lance. 

The Bearer then swiped the assassin's feet, toppling him onto the floor. And now using Maldron's lance he-

"Aaaagh!!"

The assassin kicked precisely at the Bearer's ruined shoulder, and the heavy metal was flung away, leaving them both weaponless. 

However it was apparent who was at an advantage. 

Before the Bearer could reach for his sword just an arms length away from him, the assassin tackled him onto the floor, giving close attention to the Bearer's bleeding wound. The undead screamed once more, and was now properly pinned below the sadistic assassin. The Bearer whimpered pathetically. Maldron leaned in. 

"Stay still. I liked it that way," whispered Maldron. 

The Bearer snarled, and was that a drop of tear that trickled down his helm? 

The assassin shivered in delight. At first he was just having fun, but now he was really enjoying himself. 

He wasn't necrophiliac, per say, but he wasn't going to turn away a still warm and soft body. Especially if that body had a teeth-achingly sweet attitude and a chest the size of Eleum Loyce with an ass that could topple countries... Why not? 

But a warm writhing body was even better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk where I'm goin with this fic but they will be fucking


End file.
